


Ozymandias Owed

by jay_be



Series: Sleepless in St. Tropez [1]
Category: Homestuck, One Direction
Genre: Harry is my fucking boyfriend so back off, M/M, PWP, This is as close to literal garbage as it can be, We're gonna get married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_be/pseuds/jay_be
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John goes over to Dave's house one night, and things get a little fucking raunchy, now don't they? So you should read this because I know you're fucking going to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ozymandias Owed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ribbontype](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbontype/gifts).



> This is a story. A really good story. You'll love it.

Once upon a time, there lived a boy. His name was John. And he was most certainly NOT a homosexual. He loved girls. And life. And his dad. His dad was one of the very best parts of his life. But, you know, he was kinda smothering. All that goddamn cake. No one guy needed to have cake shoved in every orifice all the time. And John was very serious. Every single orifice of his had, at one point, had cake inside it.

Every. Single. One.

The worst time had been when he'd woken up to find his anal cavity completely filled to the brim with buttercream icing. How on earth his dad had managed to sneak into his room and get through the whole process of giving him both an enema and a reverse enema was beyond him. Maybe he'd be able to learn it one day. That'd be pretty cool.

John walked up to Dave's door, because that is where he had been going this whole time, and knocked. He just had to tell Dave about the time his Dad had shoved a full fucking wedding cake up his tiny boy-ass. Dave would think it was fucking hilarious.

"Yo, Egderp," Dave said when he opened up the door. He was lounging around on the door frame in just a pair of loosely-hanging boxers. They were kind of shredded, and John found himself drawn to looking at three fucking things in particular:

1\. Dave's kickass abs  
2\. Dave's delicious-looking kickass hipbones  
3\. Dave's huge delicious-looking kickass bulge

"Fuck," said John, "maybe I am a homosexual!"

Dave winked behind his coolkid shades. "There's only one way to find out!" He grabbed John's head and shoved him roughly to the ground, thrusting his still-covered crotch into John's face. John, deciding there was no better time than the present to figure out if cock tasted batter than cake, started fellating Dave right fucking there in the doorway to his apartment.

Consensus: Cock > Cake

Dave's penis was thick and long and whatever fucking other adjectives you can use to describe a dick without sounding like goddamn E.L. James; turgid, maybe? Like, why do we, as a society, have such an issue with describing our goddamn genitals? "Ooh yes pleasure me with your disco stick of meaty threshed wonder!" Like, what is that the fuck? Nothing worthwhile, that's for sure. And actual goddamn authors are no fucking better, like gogddamn Jonathan Franzen and his fucking fuckpuppet OCs or goddamn that other fucking author what was his goddamn name who the fuck even knows because it's all such goddamn garbage, isn't it? Why haven't we evolved to a point where we can goddamn talk about the fucking art of fucking fuccking without being a goddamn little bitch-ass bitch about it? IT'S THE SAME AS IT EVER WAS.

"Ooh, John," moaned Dave, piking his fleshy bass-rass down John's waiting food tube, "you're so goddamn pretty and shit."

"Fuflkrhgghhhgfck," said John, because you can't fucking TALK when you have a throatful of WANG.

"Ooh, John," moaned Dave, piking his fleshy bass-rass down John's waiting food tube, "do you swallow?"

"Flrlbghgkgkcu?" said John, but it was too late, because Dave was ejaculating powerfully down John's tiny virgin mouth-face-hole. John, despite being an aforementioned virgin, took it all in stride(r), because he was a fucking champ, and Dave petted his messy black or whatever hair and called him a good boy. Such a good boy. Good boy.

"You're a good boy," whispered Dave, still jackhammering his flaccid pecker into the confused John's mouth. John pulled himself off, confused when Dave kept thrusting.

"Dave, you came," said John, trying to avoid getting sweaty junk into his eyes. "Why are you still thrusting?" Dave kept thrusting, smacking his weenie onto John's faceenie. John decided to wait.

Suddenly Bro was there, because Bro is in more goddamn John/Dave fics than the other actual goddamn main characters of this shitty-ass webcomic.

"Hey you fucking cocksuckers," he said, walking over to where Dave was still racheting into John's slowly bruising face. He was shirtless too, and fucking hot as hell, though for whatever reason everything below the belt was entirely blurred out because we're avoiding that genre probably.

"Hey!" protested John, but then he realized that he had not only totes just sucked a d, but he still had the remnants of Dave's first like, sixty potential children over his face and clothes. "Okay," he admitted, "I did suck that dick. I sucked it hard."

Bro smiled, then looked at Dave. "For fuck's sake, boy, stop thrusting into your bitch's face." He smacked Dave to the ground, but all cool-like, because it's not abuse if it's funny, and Dave finally stopped thrusting. "Take this inside, would you? The couch is free."

Dave reached over and grabbed John's hand. He smiled sexily up at Bro. "Care to join us, then?" he asked.

Bro laughed, his waist and hands still totally blurred. "Fuck that shit, li'l man, this ain't that kind of story!" he said, because authorial fiat decided that Bro was cognizant of the fourth wall and all that entailed. "You can have a shitty explicit fic with all sorts of nasty garbage, but the instant you add in Stridercest, shit gets fucking weird, okay, and that just cannot be. So you go in there and fuck your boytoy and whatever, and I'm gonna go be immaterial to the resolution of this story forever. Lates."

But it was immaterial, since Dave had already slung John across his back like a turtle shell and was crawling into their apartment for more barebacking. Don't you find it funny that nobody ever mentions like, lube and preparations when they write slash fic? Like, please, do your research, otherwise John and Dave won't be having a kickass first time, they will be having a tear-ass first time, and will end up getting covered in poop slurry. That is a THING that HAPPENS, you guys.

Anyway right so Dave flung John onto their couch or futon or whatever and promptly disrobed him. He spent an inordinate amount of time sniffing John's panties, and licking his own jizz off of John's shirt, because that is totally a legitimate response to arousal and in no way fucking weird.

Once all lubed up, Dave threw John face-first onto the coffee table and entered him from behind.

"Goddamn," said John, "that feels improbably wonderful!"

"Of course it does," said Dave, pounding into pudgy assflesh like a preacher pounds his pulpit in church, "you've been stretched out before."

"Doesn't that only apply if the stretching is happening regularly?" asked John, but it was rather muffled from the pair of Dave's boxers that Dave had shoved into his mouth.

"Look, John," said Dave, in between stanzas from _Ave Maria_ , "you've been stretched out once in the anal region, so you can obviously immediately take my massive wanger-clanger up the bum-oley without issue."

"But Dave," said John, in between whimpers, "how did you know I've been stretched? That was only from the cake!"

"Oh, John," Dave whispered, leaning forward to whisper in John's ear. It was kind of hard, since he was still knifing into John's hot butt like fucking El Dorado was hidden inside Egbert's prostate, but the message came across. "The cake wasn't your father, it was me."

"What?" cried John, filled to the brim with Teen Dick 2. "How could you?"

"John," Dave gurgled, "I love you."

"Oh Dave," John turgled, "I love you too."

They both came like fucking typhoons, destroying not only John's asshole but the antique coffee table that Bro had bought specifically for this purpose the other day.

 

***

 

Later, after they had cleaned up everything and were sitting around eating Doritos and giving each other head, the doorbell rang.

"Man, who the fuck is dat," Dave snarled from around John's meat wizard. "Cannot they see that I am currently sucking some Teamo Supremo Dick right now?"

"The door is closed, Dave," said John, rubbing Dorito dust around the base of his petunia so Dave could lick it off.

"Then open it, you little bitch," sucked Dave.

John was confused, since Dave had told him to open the door but then still had his vicegrip-like grip on his cake-fattened hips. Struggling to stand, he trudged over to the door, dragging Dave with him, as Dave's lips had sealed around his penis like some sort of gay lamprey. He opened the door.

"Hey there," said Harry Styles, pushing back his far-too-fucking-long hair and giving the whole scene the once-over. "I notice you seem to be receiving fellatio from a twink. Might I join in?"

"Of fucking course!" screamed Dave, shoving John back into the apartment and grabbing Harry Styles by the legs. With the strength of a far less twinky gay, Dave flung Harry Styles over his head and into the waiting futon, which was still covered in Dorito dust and sex sweat. With catlike grace, Dave sprang over to the futon and ripped literally Harry Styles' pants off, immediately going to town down on Harry Styles' improbably massive penis.

"Not that I'm not complaining, since I've obviously had a huge fucking crush on you forever, despite the logistical improbability of having a crush on a guy from a fabricated band created in 2010 when we, by all means, were in the apocalypse in 2009," said John, mesmerized by Harry Styles' hands in Dave's hair, and Dave deepthroating the celebrity, "but what in the blue fuck are you doing here? Don't you have, like, work to do?"

"Work besides this?" said Harry Styles, pounding Dave's head down over and over to nose into his junk.

"Yes."

"Well," said Harry Styles, sucking on John's earlobe while Dave was still fucking doing the same fucking thing he'd been doing for the last few paragraphs, "I do. We have a tour in town, but the tour bus broke down and Niall only has three fucking holes, the useless reptile."

John frowned. "That simultaneously answers and raises about nine more questions."

Harry Styles winked in that quintessentially British way and frenched the shit out of John. "You know what else I'd like to raise?" said Harry Styles.

"My blood pressure?" asked John, trying to ignore how great it felt having the hottest (HAH) member of One Direction tonguing his mouth.

"Your dick, you bleeding wanker," replied Harry Styles, giving John a pert slap across the ass and also the face. "Now go get behind this twink and let's fucking Eiffel Tower him, shall we?"

"Shouldn't we Big Ben him, all things being considered?" asked John, but it was too late. Dave and Harry Styles had swung around, and John took Dave Strider from behind and grabbed hands with Harry Goddamn Styles, and it was both wonderful and probably illegal in Botswana, because everything is illegal in Botswana.

During, Harry Styles turned his eyes on John and glared. "Don't be fucking racist," he hissed.

John came.

 

***

 

Four hours later, John was sitting with Dave. Both of them were naked and completely spent, having now come to completion like... eight times, or whatever. They were feeding each other Doritos, because that's romantic and not at all sad or one of the warning signs of an obsession.

Suddenly, Vriska Serket jumped through the window!!!

"John!!!!!!!!" she snarled, throwing Dave off the couch/futon, "how dare you!!!!!!!!"

"How are you doing that with your voice?" John asked.

"Don't be fucking racist!!!!!!!!" Vriska Serket said, admonishing John even though she was a human probably but nobody was going to question how a goddamn human girl had a name like Vriska Serket. "I'm here to stop you from doing more of the worst fucking decision you've ever made in your dum8 life!!!!!!!!"

"That's kind of frightening, Vriska," said John, worriedly.

"John," snarled Dave, "don't be so fucking racist. I cannot believe I fucked and then was fucked by a fucking racist!"

"Don't you talk to him, you sodomite!" screeched Vriska, who it was totally believable that she would be anti-gay because Vriska is clearly a homophobe. "I know what you did last summer! And also right this today! I saw the videos!"

"The videos?" wondered John, while Dave got even paler.

"Look at this!" screeched Vriska, shoving her spider-themed smartphone in John's face. To his great surprise, there was a video playing on PornHub that was Dave fucking him up the bum-oley. John gasped. That was him being fucked up the bum-oley! He recognized the coffee table and also the pucker of his bumhole. He spun around to Dave, furious.

"How could you!" he snapped, bursting into tears. He looked around the room. "Those things you told me weren't cameras are actually cameras, aren't they? AREN'T THEY?!?"

"Yes," whispered Dave.

"Ha!" laughed Vriska Serket.

"How could you?" John snapped a second time I think. "How could you put me in porn without asking me? Even though I know full well that your brother does porn for a living, I was totally taken aback by you sharing that interest! Why would you do this to me?"

"Oh, John," whispered Dave, sliding down onto his knees on the floor. "I did it because I love you!"

"What?" said John.

"Whaaaaaaaat?!?!?!?!" screeched Vriska.

"Oh Johnny baby," sang Dave, slapping John's wiener against his face, "I love you so much, that I wanted to share you and your pudgy flesh with the world! You're so beautiful to me!" He sucked John hard. "I love you!" he screamed from around fleshbrush.

"Oh Dave!" screamed John, coming like a bullhorn. "I love you too!"

"So you forgive me?" whispered Dave, tears streaking down his face to mingle with the ejaculate.

"Of course!" whispered Dave, and they kissed through the various bodily fluids.

"What the actual fuck," screeched Vriska.

"John," whispered Dave, "will you marry me?"

"What the actual  _fuck_ ," screeched Vriska.

"Oh Dave," whispered John, "of course I will!"

"What the actual  _FUCK_!!!!!!!!" screeched Vriska.

They turned to look at her, holding each other. John showed her the ring on his finger. "Aren't you so happy for us?"

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" screeched Vriska, pulling out a knife. "I am going to sta8 you 8ecause your gay love 8etween two guys is anathema to me!!!!!!!!"

She leapt.

Suddenly, Harry Styles, whom everyone had forgotten about including you, leapt in between them and took the knife right in his British heart.

"Shit, yo," he said Britishly, and then he died.

Britishly.

 

***

 

Vriska went to jail. The end.

**Author's Note:**

> merry fucking christmas zoe


End file.
